Then reid reid grow his dark-brown cheiks, Sae did his dark-brown brow; His luiks grew kene, as they were wont, In dangers great to do ; 60. He hes tane a horn as grene as glass, And gien five founds fae shrill, That treis in grene wod schuke thereat, Sae loud rang ilka hill. His fons in manly sport and glie, Quhen low down in a graffy dale, They heard their fatheris horn. 65 That horn, quod they, neir founds in peace, 70 We haif other sport to byde. And fune they heyd them up the hill, And fune were at his fyde. "Late late the zestrene I weind in peace 75 To end my lengthned life, My age micht weil excuse my arm Frae manly feats of stryfe; But now that Norfe dois proudly boaft Fair Scotland to inthrall, Its neir be faid of Hardyknute, He feard to ficht or fall, 82 "Robin "Fareweil my dame fae peirlefs gude, (And tuke hir by the hand,) Fairer to me in age zou feim, Than maids for bewtie famd: My zoungest fon fall here remain To guard thefe ftately towirs, And fhut the filver bolt that keips, Sae faft zour painted bowirs." 100 And And he has ridden owre muir and mofs, Owre hills and mony a glen, Quhen he came to a wounded knicht Making a heavy mane; "Here maun Ilye, here maun I dye, By treacheries falfe gyles; Witless I was that eir gaif faith To wicked womans fmyles." "Sir knicht, gin ze were in my bowir, To lean on filken feat, My ladyis kyndlie care zoud prove, Quha neir kend deidly hate : Hir felf wald watch ze all the day, Hir maids a deid of nicht; And Fairly fair zour heart wald cheir, As fcho ftands in zqur ficht. "Aryfe young knicht, and mount zour fteid, Full lowns the fhynand day: Cheis frae my menzie quhom ze pleis 130 With him nae pleiding micht prevail; Brave Hardyknute in to gain, With faireft words and reafon strong, Strave courteously in vain. 140 145 Of Pictish race by mothers fyde, Quhen Picts ruld Caledon, 150 Lord Chattan claimd the princely maid, Quhen he faift Pictish crown. Now |